Connie turned her attention back to Farzana Wakim, who had two styles of selfie online. One was proper and traditional, when she would wear a headscarf and appear makeup-free. On others the scarf was slipped so far back as to be virtually invisible – and when Connie enlarged those images, there were traces of mascara and lipstick, even a little glitter. Connie went back to the start of the photographs, wishing young people would learn to keep their profiles private but equally glad that she was able to access so much of Farzana’s life.

There were family members in most of Farzana’s formal photos, and a few people listed as friends – but those, without exception, were female. Connie texted Baarda.

‘Not to stereotype but please check. Evidence around home of religious devotion/strictness? Check Farzana’s room for hidden clothing, makeup. Recent deletions from mobile.’

A second medical alert response came in as she hit Send.

It was from a clinic in Glasgow, written up by a nurse who had discharged a patient from her care four years earlier, who had repeatedly attended with different ailments relating to his internal organs. On no occasion did any testing reveal a cause, and thereafter, the complaints would shift to a different organ to start again. He resembled the physical description, but with more hair and less emaciated. After that, the emails started flooding in. Connie knew she should have anticipated it, but as the minutes passed, the enormity of the task she’d created for herself became apparent.

Her mobile pinged.

‘Affirmative. No social media/calls/texts visible for the last week. Thoughts?’ Baarda replied by text.

‘Either Farzana erased everything to cover her tracks, or someone else deleted information to cover motive for harming her. Do not believe this is Elspeth’s abductor. Starting to get …’ Connie stopped typing.

An email had come in from a doctor’s surgery in Niddrie Mains asking to speak by telephone and leaving a number. Connie dialled.

‘This is Dr Ross,’ a woman answered.

‘Good morning, Dr Ross,’ Connie said. ‘I’m Dr Constance Woolwine. You were kind enough to respond to the medical information alert issued through MIT.’

‘Yes, hello. I don’t have long, I’m afraid; my clinic opens in a few minutes.’

‘Hold on,’ Connie said, turning down the police radio that had been playing in the incident room next to her so she could keep up to date with what was happening at Farzana’s house. ‘That’s better. Sorry to have interrupted. You have some information that might match the alert?’